


please tell me you'll stay

by dragon_rider



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bisexual Male Character, Friends to Lovers, Gay Male Character, M/M, Teen Romance, gay!Adam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider/pseuds/dragon_rider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam sighed, fidgeted with the strap of the backpack on his shoulder and stepped into what was pretty much Hell on Earth for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	please tell me you'll stay

**Author's Note:**

> For this prompt, "Blake and Adam in high school Adam openly gay boy hated by the school but Blake date him and insist on going to the prom."
> 
> English isn't my first language and I don't live in the US either so I apologize for the mistakes in this.
> 
> Thanks to [areyouserious](http://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouserious) for the help! (:

Adam sighed, fidgeted with the strap of the backpack on his shoulder and stepped into what was pretty much Hell on Earth for him.

At first, no one noticed him. No, scratch that; everyone knew the second he came in but scrambled to pretend that they didn’t because even looking at him could be dangerous on bad days and Adam had a feeling this was one of those days.

He sighed again. Really, if sighing was letting happiness escape out of him every time, he’d run out of that a long time ago, probably at some point during sophomore year.

He got to his locker, grabbed the books he needed and made a face when he remembered he hadn’t done English homework again. He’d done half of it, maybe, during Math, but then he’d gotten distracted with a song in his head and spent the rest of the hour fanatically scribbling Queen lyrics on his notebook, trying to be inconspicuous as he moved his feet to the beat.

Adam wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, although he liked thinking that was because most of the time he couldn’t be bothered to pay enough attention to understand things, and all his teachers knew that by now.

He was a senior in high school and he was very interested in ending this long and almost ever-lasting torture that was attending to class to get harassed and laughed at so he was trying—he really was—to hand the homework on time and study as much as he could.

He was managing well so far but that was mostly because his friends were awesome and forced him to do shit even when he didn’t feel like it.

Books secured in his hands, he slammed the locker shut and turned just in time to collide with the biggest douchebag in the whole place; one of those vicious jocks that Adam could never quite figure out whether they were too scared to get out of the fucking closet and resented everyone who did or just plain bad people.

Summers sneered at him, all teeth and menace, and Adam straightened but very carefully kept his back glued to the locker row behind him.

“Oh, but if it isn’t the prettiest bitch in school!” he bellowed, half of the football team sniggering behind him like he was a master comedian or something.

Adam rolled his eyes. Really, there were only so many times you could get offended for being called the same thing over and over.

“Good morning to you too, _babe_ ,” he wisecracked, “I’m oh so very sorry if you’re that hooked, man, but I don’t date assholes. I’d be straight as an arrow if you were the last man on Earth, that’s how much I wouldn’t date you.”

A few students around them laughed loudly at his joke and then scampered away. Adam was pretty proud of himself even when it got him a solid punch in the stomach that made his breakfast rise unpleasantly to his throat.

Still, he barely cringed from the pain and kept the smirk firm on his face until Summers and Co. were stomping down the hall, a threat shouted for everyone to hear that promised very bad things for Adam.

“You’re gonna regret that, Levine! Meet me behind the court after class or you’ll have worse!”

Adam walked to his first period with his head held high and telling himself he wasn’t going to regret it no matter how many bruises he ended up with.

Words were everything he had to fight the bullying he faced on a daily basis. Thankfully for him, he’d learn early on that words could hurt just as much as stick and stones and more than that, sometimes, so he liked thinking he wasn’t losing this fight.

He smirked to himself when every female head and more than a few male too turned around to watch him pass in his skinny jeans.

Being able to be himself despite of everything was worth all the punches in the world.

***

“Ow!” Adam winced, dodging the second knock in the head James tried giving him, “What was that for, jackass? Don’t you think I’ll have enough today?”  
“I don’t think so, no,” James grit out and wow, Adam had never seen his usually placid friend so livid, “You’re obviously not getting enough if you’re still taunting them! And you just had to pick today of all days, when Jesse is sick as a dog and I have practice so we can’t have your back!”  
Adam squirmed and tried to be reassuring even though he was scared too. “I’ll be fine, James,” he said firmly, “The second it starts getting ugly I’ll run the Hell away from there, promise.”  
James rubbed his face resignedly. “You better,” he mumbled, “Stupid, stubborn little shit that you are. Why am I even friends with you again?”  
“Because we rock together,” Adam explained with a grin, “Like, literally.”

James chuckled in spite of himself, his eyes brightening and lifting the ominous feeling Adam had pressing down on him because fuck, if James was that worried, he was in some deep shit, and he was getting more panicked by the second.

He’d gotten beaten before. No big deal there. But James was right, there had always been someone close around to make sure things didn’t escalate.

There would be no one to do that this time.

He guessed he was lucky to have this happening on his last year, what with his big mouth and bad luck.

“You really need to start picking your battles, Adam. Even you have to be tired of losing at this point.”  
Adam snorted. “Losing? Please. I’ve won every single time,” he wasn’t exactly lying. Showing up to meet the challenge was what mattered to him. Victory was a matter of definition, “Besides, five against one can hardly be considered fair play. I’d win if it was fair.”  
“Yeah, if it was a _sing off_ but it wouldn’t be,” James insisted, “You can’t throw a punch to save your life, buddy, you need to admit it to yourself or start going to the gym.”  
“Aw,” Adam snickered, “Are you still sulking because your girlfriend spent the whole time we went dancing last week staring at my ass? I do move so much better than you, you need to admit it to yourself, _buddy._ ”

James threw his hands in the air and picked up what was left of his lunch to toss in the trash.

“You’re impossible. Good luck not getting killed.”

Adam winked at him and blew him a kiss, still laughing at James’ retreating back.

He’d gotten over his crush on him years ago but it was always funny to see his friend flustered because of the attention. Plus, he was unfairly attractive and it was the only way Adam could get back at him for it.

***

Adam knew, intellectually and statistically, that he couldn’t be the only gay kid at his school.

It was obvious though that he was the only one brave enough—or rather, stupid enough—to be unapologetic about it and deal with bigotry every day.

Most of the students had always passed over him, either convinced he was going to hit on them since they were the correct gender—and Adam mentally rolled his eyes again because fuck them, none of them were nearly interesting or hot enough to spike his interest—or that they were going to be ignored because they weren’t. Girls looked at him a lot, leered even, but that was it.

So with Jesse sick and James busy, Adam was on his own.

He took a deep breath, deciding to leave his backpack in his locker to avoid things getting lost or broken—it’d happened before, a _lot_ , and he was saving to buy a new guitar, so there was that—and squared his shoulders.

It was time to get the shit beaten out of him. Yay.

***

He hadn’t even made it to the vacant lot behind the court when a hand gripped him by the collar of his jacket and _pulled_ , hard.

Next thing he knew, he was dragged across the ground and kicked to land face first on the dirt.

He kept his mouth shut even with the mocking and slurs that reached him. After a few minutes of blows and kicks, the ringing in his ear was louder, and he almost wanted to stop his blind flailing in the hopes to connect with someone’s bones and give them a taste of their own medicine because it just wasn’t working and he was so tired of this, of having to constantly fight for something that was his right.

He was a bit too busy wallowing to notice the hits had stopped coming at first.

When he did, he struggled to sit and squinted through what was going to be one Hell of a black eye, his almost-unscathed eye not in much better condition with all the dirt and sweat plastered to his lashes.

There was one big guy standing in front him. If Adam had been prone to daydream, he would’ve said the guy was in a protective stance and willing to defend him, but he wasn’t, so he just scowled and stared, utterly confused.

He knew those boots. There were only so many guys that didn’t wear sneakers to school, after all. And he knew that plaid shirt too, it was the blue one he’d dubbed his favorite one after one week of subtly—and okay, creepily—staring at the new student in senior year from a distance.

“Shelton, what the fuck?” Summers protested, “I’m sure you know how this works, pal, so get your ass away from here if you’re not gonna help. We have business with Levine, he had it coming.”  
“Oh, I _am_ gonna help,” Shelton retorted and proceeded to sock the jock in the most glorious way possible. Adam cheered even from his pathetic position and resolved that if he’d gotten kicked in the head too hard and was hallucinating, this was a damn good one, “I’m gonna turn this into an even fight so you and your minions can either try to take _me_ down to get to him or get the fuck off, how ‘bout that?”

Adam laughed outright. Yeah, fat chance of that. Summers was a coward with delusions of grandeur at best and his friends were no better. Shelton was fucking _huge_ , he had at least three inches on most of them and enough muscle to back it up.

He wasn’t surprised when they made a hasty retreat, swearing loudly and kicking everything they could reach while they were at it.

He _was_ surprised when Shelton turned to him, kneeled on the ground and leveled a concerned glance at him.

“You okay, buddy?” Shelton asked, his stupid drawl making funny things in the pit of Adam’s stomach. Or were those his big blue eyes? Fuck, bad moment to remember the raging crush he’d been trying to deny ever since he caught sight of him, “You got your ass handed to you.”

Adam groaned, getting to his feet with a wince that he hoped wasn’t entirely unattractive—leave it to him, to be worried about that in a moment like this—and tried to come up with a way of saying thanks while simultaneously telling the guy to fuck off because he didn’t need any rescuing, thank you very much.

“Look, huh—“ he pretended he didn’t know his name. He still had his dignity left.  
“Shelton,” the tall Okie filled in. Yeah, Adam had been listening when he’d introduced himself in class the first day. He’d been screwed since the start, “Blake Shelton.”

Adam started at the hand stretched out to him. He shook it slowly after clumsily cleaning his hand on his jeans, looking up at Shelton without having the faintest idea of why this guy had gone out of his way to help _him_ , the resident hated homo, of all people.

He introduced himself even though he knew everyone in school knew who he was—he wasn’t popular exactly, he was just the guy you needed to avoid at all costs if you wanted to make your life easier—and let go of Blake’s hand awkwardly.

 _Smooth_ , he told himself, despairing. He was so much cooler than this but right when he needed to be, he was a spluttering mess.

Why was this his life?

“Right. Shelton, look, I appreciate the help, really, but I can fight my own battles. And you’re going to regret this anyway, so there’s no point in us shaking it out and pretending to be buddies. We’re not going to be.”

Shelton raised both eyebrows at him. There was a smile—a charming, gorgeous smile—pulling at the corners of his lips and Adam hated himself so much for liking it.

“Adam—can I call you Adam?” Adam nodded dazedly, “It looks to me like you could use another friend, y’know, especially one those dickheads can’t hurt and yeah, if they ganged up on me I’d be in trouble but you and me both know that’s not gonna happen, so where’s the harm? I can take care of myself, same as you. I wasn’t trying to fight for you, I was just trying to help since your none of your buddies were around to stop it.”

Adam opened his mouth and closed it with a click—and fuck it, his jaw was sore—and could do nothing but grin at the guy, going as far as to hug Shelton in thanks when he tripped on their way out and almost ended up flat on his ass again.

Shelton hugged him right back and accepted to come to dinner to his place.

“Damn it, Adam,” he groused when they got in his truck, as if they’d known each other for years instead of mere minutes, “It’s Blake.”

***

Blake was shit at driving in LA. Adam had to do the aggressive yelling and gesturing at the other drivers so they could get home sooner and told him directions that Blake misunderstood half of the times so they almost got lost four times before finally parking outside Adam’s house.

By then, Adam was more than sore and touchy but having Blake right by his side, looking apologetic and sheepish, was enough for him to keep most of it in check.

He introduced Blake to his parents who were in the kitchen, waved them off when they tried fusing over him and complained he was late again for dinner, and went upstairs to get a quick shower and do some damage control.

The worst he’d gotten this time was a loose tooth but he knew from experience that if he spent the next few days pressing it back into place and eating carefully it’d be fine.

When he went back, Blake had washed up and was sitting at the table with his dad already, the two of them apparently engrossed in conversation so Adam padded to the kitchen to help his mom with the food.

“James called,” she informed him with a grin, “I told him this lovely boy brought you home in one piece and he was very interested in hearing who it was.”  
“ _Mom_ ,” Adam groaned. Sometimes he thought coming out to his parents had been a bad idea. They were both terrible enablers, “It’s not what you think. He’s new and he’s being friendly, that’s it. No need for you to look like I’ve scored or something.”  
“No?” his mom grinned even more and poked him in the side, making him hiss and step away, “You’d probably want to check your face then, honey, something’s not right with it.”

Adam frowned, going to the mirror in the hall to see that in fact, yes, he had the biggest shit-eating grin that no amount of thinking about dead puppies could wipe from his face and that looked ridiculous with the bruises already forming in it.

He stopped trying when he returned to the table and saw a mirrored expression in Blake’s face.

He fell a little bit in love with his dimples, just like that.

***

Things got real easy real fast, after that.

Don’t get him wrong, there were still whispered insults and crazy rumors going around but he’d never cared about those and he wasn’t about to start now that he had a new friend who somehow kept him safe without making him feel like he was hiding behind his impressive frame.

People couldn’t even call Blake gay for hanging out with him because he was so friendly and nice with everyone not even the jocks he’d beaten could hold a grunge against him. Soon enough they were inviting him to the team and pretending nothing ever happened.

Adam pretended, too, pretended he wasn’t scared of Blake moving on and pushing him aside to the glamorous life of sports and popularity instead of questionable reputation and good music.

He started spacing out in class even more than usual, getting detention that he spent looking out through the window to where Blake was practicing with his new friends.

But Blake was always back to get him, back to drive him home and sing along with him to the songs in the radio when the silence got too tense for Adam’s liking and there was no way he could break the ice with _so do you like them better than me, are you bored of me yet_.

Shit, even Jesse and James were kind of fond of the guy. If he got brainwashed into a bully and made Adam’s life Hell again, he was going to get his heart broken in so many ways it was better not to count them.

***

“I love your voice,” Blake told him out of the blue on a red light one day, “You hit every note like it’s not even hard, suits you so well because that’s you tackling everything else too.”

Adam’s breath hitched. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his backpack. He tried remembering when he’d blushed after a friend had praised him but couldn’t because it hadn’t happened, not even back when he’d been one hundred percent sure James’ blonde and sleek mane was the best thing in the world.

“I love yours,” he said, dumbly, looking at Blake through the corner of his eye with a coy smile. So far they’d been flirting jokingly for months without Blake freaking out on him but he couldn’t help worrying about overstepping somehow and making his sadly very straight friend uncomfortable, “It’s deep and effortless and I’m jealous of it.”

Blake laughed. He had a loud, kind of obnoxious laugh which was good because everything couldn’t be perfect about the guy even if it seemed that way to Adam, ridiculous laughter or not.

“Good,” Blake beamed, “I’ll keep you on your toes, rock star.”

Blake hummed a Country tune the rest of the way because the radio of his old truck wasn’t cooperating.

Adam did his best not to kiss him goodbye.

***

“Sit here,” Blake hissed at him when he was late to the auditorium and the director was half-way through his boring speech of whatever-it-was. Adam wasn’t even sure what the ceremony was about, nor did he care.  
“Where?” Adam hissed back with a scowl because there were no empty seats anywhere, least of all around Blake, even though he was at the very back.

Blake didn’t say anything, opting for grabbing his hips and sitting him on his right thigh.

Adam felt like he was on fire. Blake’s leg was so warm, his chest so firm against his back, it was all he could do to keep sitting in his lap instead of falling to the floor to have some sort of love-induced seizure.

“It’s a good seat,” he heard himself whispering, breathless and bemused as he tilted his head to the side enough to look at Blake, “I’m surprised no one took it before.”

Blake’s arms tightened around his waist. Adam wriggled a little, settling more comfortably against him while making sure he wasn’t rubbing against his crotch.

He had to bite his cheek not to moan when Blake kissed the back of his neck. He couldn’t stifle the whole body shudder it caused and Blake let out a pleased sound that went straight south.

Oh God, Adam was so screwed if this was still Blake being a jerk and teasing him. He’d never hear the end of it.

“That’s ‘cause it’s reserved,” Blake said lowly in his ear and no, it didn’t sound like a joke at all, “Only for you, darlin’.”

***

The lap sitting kept happening. The neck kissing, not so much, not unless there was no one paying attention to them like that first time, and for some reason Adam couldn’t fathom no one seemed to mind at all—some girls kind of swooned when it happened? Women were so weird—but it was driving him fucking nuts.

He’d been expecting a real kiss for weeks now, a kiss that half of him knew quite well was never going to happen.

Was Blake leading him on? Had he found out about Adam’s stupid crush on him? Could he really be that cruel? It didn’t quite fit with the goofy, kind-hearted cowboy Adam knew and adored, the same one who stood by his side in silent support whenever he needed him but still let Adam stand his own ground and glared at whoever sorry fucker who thought it was a good idea to steal lunch from the freshmen while he was looking.

Two could play this game, Adam assured to himself, and vowed to do what he’d been actively trying not to do almost ever since he met the infuriating, gorgeous, charming, Country son of a bitch.

If he kissed Blake and got a blow for his trouble, well, he could always say he’d been kidding, right? Blake and he did that shit all the time, the pranks, and it wasn’t like either of them was waiting around for their first kiss.

Grinning wickedly, he took out his phone and texted Jesse to stage a fake get together at Adam’s favorite hill of LA.

***

The stars were dulled by the numerous lights of the city but Adam didn’t mind. The sky was clear and the night was beautiful, the breeze was just the right side of chilly and he had Blake all for himself, at last.

“So,” Blake intoned and oh, was he nervous? Awesome, “When are the guys coming?”  
“They’re not,” Adam replied, taking full advantage of the fact Blake’s truck had a wide bench for front seats and sliding smoothly to his lap, “It’s just the two of us tonight, Big Country.”

Encouraged by the hands on his hips, Adam dipped his head down, gripped the sides of Blake’s head and kissed him on the mouth. He felt him shuddering beneath him and almost opened his eyes, suddenly scared of screwing everything between them again, but it’d been a good kind of shudder because Blake opened up to him and chased his lips when he tried withdrawing.

His lips were soft like a girl’s—which Adam knew about, he’d tried making out with a few just to make sure he wasn’t missing out on something—but the kiss was fierce and hungry almost from the start, months of pent up sexual tension surging to steal the sweetness of it quickly, Blake’s tongue licking into his mouth and tracing his own tongue until he moaned loudly, breaking the kiss to clutch the low roof of the car with a trembling hand.

The steering wheel was digging painfully into his back but he could barely feel it with Blake pressed flushed against him.

“You’ve been holding back on me, huh,” he teased, grinding his hips with a smirk and moaning again when Blake groaned and dropped his head back a bit at the touch, “I should leave you like this, you deserve it.”

Blake had a smirk of his own when he latched on to his neck and nipped and sucked the skin there lightly. They were both panting but Adam’s breathing was messier, louder, and damn it, maybe Blake deserved the blue balls but he didn’t.

“Wasn’t sure I was your type, is all,” Blake murmured after another throughout kiss that left them both even more desperate, Blake’s hands rotating to Adam’s waist and Adam’s to his shoulders, “’Sides, I’m bi.”  
“Oh, is that a threat?” Adam goaded, “Careful, Adam, or you’ll lose me to a pretty skirt, is that what it is?”  
Blake looked flustered. It was kind of adorable and very hot. “I didn’t—“

Adam laughed, swallowed Blake’s apology with daring teeth and playful lips, eyelids fluttering with Blake’s first full-blown moan at Adam’s hand sneaking into his jeans.

The knowledge he’d caused that was almost enough to have him coming untouched. He was so into him it was terrifying.

“Don’t worry, cowboy,” Adam reassured him, half-lidded eyes dark with promise, “I know how to keep my guys occupied.”

He was bluffing, of course he was, and Blake knew that but he didn’t seem to mind.

***

He was resigned to keep his hands to himself at school and pretend they were just good friends, as usual.

He wasn’t about to force Blake to come out if he wasn’t ready, especially since he liked girls too. Coming out was social suicide, after all. It wasn’t a thing to do lightly.

He wasn’t expecting Blake to pin him against his locker and kiss the living daylights out of him.

His knees even gave a little but Blake caught him by the waist, grinning at him so hard it was kind of contagious.

Adam beamed right back and gripped Blake’s nape, standing on his tiptoes to kiss him again.

When the catcalling started, he flipped everyone off with his free hand and kept kissing Blake until the bell rang.

***

Blake got kicked out of the football team. He didn’t seem to care about it and Adam certainly didn’t either. They had more time to spend together this way and not just the weekends to play music together in Jesse’s garage.

He had a good-looking guy who wasn’t only funny but was also a musician and the best person he’d ever known as boyfriend.

It was wonderful. This couldn’t be his life.

Adam was kinda scared, especially late at night, thinking it just couldn’t be.

***

“No,” Adam crossed his arms, stubborn, and looked daggers at no one in particular, “We’re not going to prom together, Blake, forget it. I’m going to stay home and watch cartoons and you’re going to invite that chick—what’s her name, Miranda? The one that’s been making eyes at you every time you breathe next to her—to prom and get normal pictures of one of the most important nights of your life,” _because that’s what your parents want for you_ , he didn’t add but he thought Blake could hear it, judging by the scowl in his face, “You don’t get to go home with her, though, unless you break up with me first.”

They were in Blake’s place studying for one of their finals and his parents weren’t as understanding of their relationship as Adam’s so they had to keep the door open and be at least two steps away from each other at all times. Blake was currently sitting on his bed while Adam sat morosely on the desk.

He hated coming here but he wasn’t about to tell Blake that. If he did, he’d have to admit Blake’s dad had asked him to leave Blake alone before he ‘ruined his life forever’.

So Adam was sure as Hell not going to be the stupid fag who’d ruined Blake’s oh so special night.

“Adam,” Blake puffed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “We’ve been dating for three months. Are you really telling me you wouldn’t care if I take someone else to the prom? You can pretend all you want you don’t want to go but I know you do, y’know, and we’d have a blast together, I know that. I don’t care what my parents have to say, you’re my date. I’m taking you to prom. So start looking for a tux, you’re gonna need it.”  
Adam rubbed his face with both hands. “Blake, I don’t want—“  
“Yes you do.”  
“I really don’t—“  
“ _Yes you do_.”

Adam tried to sulk, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

Blake kneeled next to him and tipped his chin down with a soft touch of his fingers. They kissed sweetly until Blake’s mom cleared her throat loudly, announcing dinner would be ready in twenty minutes.

***

Blake looked smoking hot in a tuxedo. It was navy instead of black, with a light blue shirt underneath and a black bowtie that matched the black silky lapels of the suit jacket.

Adam was pretty sure he’d drooled a bit. He had to blink several times to stop staring and step aside to let Blake into his home.

His own tuxedo was dark grey, fitting snugly to his body because his parents had insisted in buying a tailored suit for him.

His mom had been very adamant in him picking a light blue silk tie and they were fucking color coordinated thanks to her.

She giggled, snapping picture after picture of Blake having some sort of stroke while looking at him.

“Oh boy, I did so good,” Blake was mumbling while he kept kissing Adam’s face, hands loosely wrapped around his back, “I did so good, look at you, Adam. You’re stunning. I knew I had to fight for you to be in a tux, I was so damn right.”

Adam narrowed his eyes at him but clung to his shoulders all the same, secretly enjoying the attention.

“You dirty liar,” he accused, “You told me you wanted to go for me, fuck you.”  
Blake chuckled against his shoulder. “Busted.”

Was he nuzzling against him? Oh God, he was, and in front of his _parents_. Thank fuck Blake’s parents hadn’t tagged along.

“Here,” Blake said, handing him a little plastic box when he finally let go of him.  
“So help me, Shelton, if you brought me a corsage—“  
“I did not, you uneducated jackass. It’s a boutonnière.”  
Adam eyed the simple white flower suspiciously. “A _what_?”  
Blake shook his head, taking it back. “A buttonhole! Let me put it on you.”

Blake slipped it into his left lapel and looked very pleased with himself.

Adam looked down, uncertain, for the second it took his dad to make another white buttonhole appear out of thin air for Blake’s suit.

He couldn’t hold back a smile this time.

He was so lucky.

Those years of humiliation and misery during high school? Totally worth it, if Blake was his prize for getting through it all.


End file.
